


i fell in love with a dead boy

by rickrollerblades



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7577386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rickrollerblades/pseuds/rickrollerblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His eyes were just a little too hollow and his skin just a little too blue. He was cold too, his breaths hung in the air like clouds and he was always bundled up in a sweater. But he was alive and he was hers, and that was all that mattered. </p><p>(AU where Steve dies in the Valkyrie crash and Natasha is Death and brings him back to life to keep for herself)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i fell in love with a dead boy

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of the same name by Antony and the Johnsons

There’s a story you'll hear about the house by the cliff, where waves crash up to kiss the weathered wood. They say that’s where Death lives with her resurrected lover. They say he breathes out fog and has a kind smile. They say he used to be Captain America. 

\--

“You’ll have the band play somethin’ slow. I’d hate to step on your-” 

The Valkyrie hits the ice shelf hard, the impact throwing him forward, his head knocking into the console. He feels something pierce his chest as the water smashes through the glass in front of him, freezing his limbs and dragging him under before he can catch a breath. He struggles against the rush, fighting to get his head above the surface to take in short gasps of air, choking on the frigid salt water. The hole in his chest screeches at him every time he gets in a jagged breath, whines at every frantic grab he makes for air.

The plane sinks deeper and deeper, the water pulling him away from the surface, and he can feel his thoughts growing fuzzy. _Lack of oxygen and blood loss,_ he thinks muzzily, _blunt force trauma to the head, too._ His chest feels ready to crack in half, and his limbs are numb and sluggish, reluctant to obey his commands. Darkness infringes on his vision, blacking out the edges of the cockpit around him. The hole in his chest beckons him to close his eyes. He struggles against the urge. If he closes his eyes he knows it will be the end. He doesn’t want to die, but his eyelids are too heavy to keep open and he’s running out of air. If he could just-

\--

They watch Steve Rogers from the beginning, his first steps, his first words, the slow unfurling of his heart as he grows. They had never seen anything like him; delicate as a butterfly, but a soul as pure and fierce as Odin himself. Watching him made them feel something other than empty.

And then one day their delicate butterfly defies the cycle of life, metamorphosing into a reflection of his soul. It takes their breath away. They watch as he takes his country by storm, in performance and in battle, everyone finally looking at him and seeing the pure heart that he has always worn on his sleeve.

But soon after, too soon, the Valkyrie is careening towards the ocean, and they know that he will not make it. It is too soon, they are not ready to let go of their golden boy and his golden soul, but they know it is time. They watch the tension leave his body as he dies, and their soul cries out for his at the loss. His story has come to an end, and they have to say goodbye and escort him to the afterlife. 

They don’t.

\--

They find a willing donor, a woman named Natalia whose body has never belonged to her, who is lonely for companionship and has suffered enough. She reminds them of themself. They lead her to the afterlife to reunite with her family and they make her body their own.

They search through her memories, pushing the terrors away and vanquishing them from her atoms. They see through the eyes of a child, dancing and laughing with a woman with red hair who calls her Natasha. 

Natasha. It’s a lovely name. They will become one with this new identity, the girl named Natasha who just wanted to be free. 

They, _she,_ spreads herself through her new body, wraps her skin around her soul like a blanket. She flexes her new fingers, feeling the muscles and sinews pull at bone, the dance of electrical signals down her nerves, the steady thrum of blood making its way through her veins. _Yes,_ she thinks, _this will do._

\--

He’s cold, so cold, drifting through oblivion with unseeing eyes. He thinks he might be dead; something has cut the strings binding his mind to his body. His heart has stopped, he’s sure of it, and the hole in his chest has fallen silent.

Something warm wraps itself around him and sinks into his skin, filling his chest with warmth and taking root in his bones. He twitches; he didn’t know he could move. He is dragged up, lifted through the darkness and into someone's arms. 

“Hey, it's okay, I've got you.” When he opens his eyes, his vision is swimming, fuzzy, and all he sees is a tangle of red haloed with gold. He feels a warm hand on his cheek as he sputters, coughing up seawater. “Hey, hey,” he hears again, in a voice that sounds like wind through the trees. He closes his eyes and leans into the hand on his cheek, soaking up the warmth of his red and gold saviour. 

He is so, so cold, but warmth creeps back into him through the hand on his cheek and the body he is cradled against. With the warmth comes energy, with the warmth comes life.

He opens his eyes again, and his red and gold saviour has morphed into a woman, a woman with forests in her eyes and red hair set ablaze by the golden sunlight.

With tired joints and rigid muscles, he reaches up to touch a curl to see if it’s as warm as it looks. He catches sight of his skin, blue and translucent and in direct contrast with her fiery warmth. He stares at it, transfixed and terrified, until she carefully wraps her hand around his own, drawing him out of his head.

“Hey,” she says with sympathetic eyes, “what’s your name?”

“St-” he coughs against the seawater lingering in his throat. “Steve.”

“Steve.” She says his name like it’s precious to her, cradling it on her tongue. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Natasha.” She smiles, and he swears that she glows brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's the intro! I have no plans to continue this right away and I feel like this works fairly well as a stand alone, but I have a full outline for this so I'll most likely continue it after The Act Itself is wrapped up. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [i fell in love with a dead boy inspired fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7625245) by [yixingsdimples](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yixingsdimples/pseuds/yixingsdimples)




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